Fourteen
by stress
Summary: You may think you know about what happened after those 13 hours. You don’t. JS A somewhat darker turn...
1. 14

Author's Note: _I had another idea for a story. A premise, really. And, before I could do the next chapter of _Sleepwalker_, I had to get this first chapter out. If you like this, or the idea behind it, please let me know. I'm really interested in what a reader might think of this idea. In my own way, this is a direct sequel of the movie. And, obviously, the dialogue in this chapter (only this chapter) is taken directly from the end of the movie. Enjoy!_

Disclaimer: _These are always mandatory when dabbling in fan fiction. If there is anything at all that is reminiscent of the 1986 fantasy film _Labyrinth_, then it probably belongs to Jim Henson, et al., including (but not limited to) the characters of Sarah Williams & Jareth, the Goblin King. Any other characters are the property of this author._

--

Fourteen

_You may think you know about what happened after those 13 hours.  
__You don't._

--

PART ONE  
_There's a face that we hide till the nighttime appears,  
__and what's hiding inside behind all of our fears,  
is our true self, locked inside the façade..._

--

She was hesitating. He could see it in her green eyes – the strength faltered, confusion blossomed. She turned away from him, presenting him with a glimpse of her flawless profile, as she struggled to recall the words. The clock continued to tick and, with every second that passed, she became more frustrated; that frustration, he was pleased to see, became her. Not that that should surprise him – whether in costume or in plain clothes, in make-up or pure, Sarah Williams was the epitome of beauty to his eye.

Jareth, the reigning monarch of the Goblin Kingdom, could not recall the moment that he decided that this mortal – this fifteen year old babe, really – would become his Queen. She was not prettier, nor stronger, nor faster, nor cleverer of wit than the many of the nobles of the Underground yet there was something about this girl that stole his attention. Before the cursed red book had fallen into her slender hands, he had been more than willing to have various women of the High Court as companions, quickly forgotten once the whim suited him. But this one… this one he knew he wanted to keep.

"My kingdom is as great…" she repeated, growing all the more flustered as the following line refused to come to her. To be honest, up until that point, Sarah was doing a respectable job of masking her true emotions and coming off as more confident than she really felt, but, now, she lowered her gaze and gave Jareth even more insight into her true feelings. "Damn! I can never remember that line."

The Goblin King knew that time was almost up. If only he could stall her long enough to let the time run out, then he could have both the boy and the girl – he was not willing to give either one of them up. However, victory would seem as sweet as that bewitched peach if he earned it instead. All Jareth wanted at that moment – and this was a Fae who was used to getting _everything _he wanted – was Sarah to concede her will to him. "Just fear me… love me… do as I say. And I will be your slave," he said, offering Sarah his heart and his kingdom as simply as he could. How could she deny him now?

Sarah still did not meet his heavy gaze. She lowered her eyes as she mumbled to herself – that same damn line over and over. "My kingdom is as great… my kingdom is as great…" She paused and her head lifted as if she had an epiphany, a moment of revelation. Slowly, she turned to meet his mismatched eyes. "You have no power over me."

Just in case he did not hear her – or, because she did not believe herself that she had said it – Sarah repeated the (assumed) fateful words, clearer and stronger the second time. "You have no power over me!"

The clock began to chime. With every ring that announced the end of the thirteen hours, Jareth grew all the more incensed. He had been bested, bested by this child. He sighed and, in his own annoyance, tossed the crystal he had held between gloved fingers into the air. The illusion shattered, the Escher Room crumbled about them and he transformed into his owl form.

Sarah and her brother disappeared. Jareth flew away from the shattered remnants of the Magickal room. And both of them knew that it was not over yet.

--

Sarah was not sure if it was all a dream. It _felt _real, she could not imagine it being _false_ but she was not the child she had been when the night started. Instead of worrying about what had (or not) just happened, Sarah raced up the steps, ignoring the chiming of the clock around her. She ran straight to her parents' bedroom, eager to see Toby. Just in case.

"Toby? Toby?" she said, entering the room. She hurried right over to his crib and let out a sigh of relief when she saw the little blonde boy resting in the base of the crib. _He's alright… _She felt a surge of affection for her tiny half-brother and wanted to express this emotion. "I'd like Lancelot to belong to you now," she said, placing the teddy bear alongside her brother. She smiled down on him before leaving him to sleep. She went to her bedroom and, though she was a bit hesitant to go inside – the eerie face of that junk lady from her dream came to mind – she entered. The familiarity of the room set her at ease at once.

"We're home. Sarah, are you home?"

Sarah lifted her head. It was her father. He and Karen must have just arrived home. "Yeah." She lifted her voice so they could hear her downstairs. "Yes, I'm home."

Sarah was up, standing just before her dresser, clearing it of anything that she no longer needed when she heard a second voice. "Good bye, Sarah."

Her green eyes met the glass. In one corner of the vanity's mirror, she could see the form of the hairy beast. Ludo. _It wasn't a dream, _Sarah thought, relieved. She turned her attention entirely to the glass.

Sir Didymus appeared just as Ludo faded from the mirror. "And remember, fair maiden, should you need us…" And he was gone.

Hoggle's weathered face replaced the small knight. "Yes, should you need us… for any reason at all…"

"I need you, Hoggle," she said, before she knew the words were out of her mouth. But, as soon as they were, she knew that she meant them. She was not prepared to give up all of her fantasy. She was not ready to leave all of her childhood behind her just yet.

Hoggle seemed surprised. "You… you do?"

"I don't know why, but every now and again in my life, for no reason at all, I need you – all of you," Sarah admitted, gazing longingly into the reflective glass. Life was not fair. She had just met them all, and for such a short period of time. She did not want to give up them all yet.

Interestingly, despite all that she had been through over the course of those thirteen hours, Sarah only remembered the sense of love and protection she held for her brother (though it had been hidden to her before this incident), as well as the sense of camaraderie she knew towards the labyrinth's creatures. The fear and exhilaration – the mild childish crush she had felt towards the labyrinth's liege – was lost to her in the aftermath of his defeat.

Hoggle adopted that expression he wore when he thought he was smarter than the girl. It was an amused expression and made him appear not as gnarled. "Oh, you do? Well, why didn't you say so?"

And, with that, they were all in her room. Through her vanity, and brought there by the powers she unwittingly had been gifted by the Goblin King, Ludo and Hoggle and Didymus… even some of the goblins… and the laughing, outrageous Fireys… had appeared in her room.

"Yeah!" Sarah laughed, enjoying their presence in her room. _It wasn't a dream at all. And I'm glad. These are my friends… I have friends._

Poor girl. She had no idea just what would happen to her shortly.

--

The fourteenth hour had begun. Unbeknownst to Sarah, Jareth did not plan on following his self-imposed thirteen hour time limit. When he bestowed the knowledge – and the power – unto the mortal girl that enabled her to wish away her brother, he had done so with the assumption that there was no way in which she could best the enchanted labyrinth – especially with the various tricks and cheats he could reveal in order to rob her of much of those given hours.

Jareth had not expected the girl to beat him. Admittedly, he had underestimated her – and he would not do that again. Sarah Williams was, to the smitten Goblin King, even worthier to be his Queen now than before she had called on him to whisk her baby brother to the Underground.

Still in his avian form, transfigured into a white owl with two distinctly colored eyes – the mark of his Faerie House – Jareth glided and navigated his way across the Aboveground. As part of the Rules, the Rules which he actually _had _to obey, he was disallowed to take his Fae form in the Aboveground unless he was invoked or invited. Sarah, by wishing on him to take her brother, had invited him into her home; he could resume his male form once he was inside her house. Before that, however, he had to rely on feathers and wings.

Having spent so much time, especially in the early days when he first felt the young girl recite the words in folly in that park she was so fond of, watching her, Jareth arrived just outside the Victorian style house only moments after Sarah arrived herself. He circled the house, passing the tree in the front various times, before taking a perch just outside of Sarah's bedroom window.

Jareth was a very impulsive Fae; it came with being only a handful of centuries old, quite young for one of his kind. In fact, he was only just into his second century of reigning over the Goblin Kingdom – and already his mother and father were calling for him to take a bride. His various liaisons with noble women of the Court and daughters of Council members pleased them greatly. He was the youngest child in his family and the only one without children of his own. His mother sought to rectify that as soon as possible. His father just wanted to see him with an heir to the Goblin Throne, should anything happen to Jareth.

The owl ruffled his feathers and gripped the branch with his talons before settling himself in. In one night, he had had a prospective queen and heir within his grasp and, miraculously, they had slipped through his very fingers. He was angry at himself, furious even, that he had taken Sarah so lightly. He had assumed that, as a mortal child on the cusp of womanhood, she would fall prey to the early traps built into the labyrinth. However, once she had gotten as far as the oubliette, Jareth began to understand that he should not take the brunette at face value.

No matter what he threw her way after that, though, Sarah bested it all. She befriended the gnarled dwarf that guarded the gates and eventually received his loyalty and, even worse, his help.

It was the peach that gave him hope. Full of a sleeping draught that would bring her very dreams to life, Jareth enticed the dwarf to betray Sarah and give her the enchanted fruit. The threat of the Bog of Eternal Stench was enough and, quite wisely, the dwarf complied with his request. It was not long before he felt the pull of successful magick.

The Masquerade Ball that Sarah envisioned surprised him yet titillated him at the same time. As much as she could fight against him while awake, her dreams showed him that she very much enjoyed his company. Masks or not, she called out for her prince – her King - as she made it past the rude spectators of the scene. They jeered and called out to her but Sarah ignored him, looking solely for him. Which, of course, meant that he was there for her. After all the years – three years, while not long to an immortal, was long when that immortal desired something he could not have – that he had watched her from afar, through crystals and as an owl, Jareth had the opportunity to embrace the child.

He took it, as graciously as he could. Sarah had dreamed herself into a beautiful white dress and had her dark hair set in a manner which made her seem all the older. However, her innocence – the essence that Jareth associated only with the mortal girl before him – made her stand out from the others in the scene. Even though it was all Sarah's design, Jareth regained his consciousness as a presence in her dream. With the child in his arms, he sang to her. It was an old song, of promise and of love.

She responded to the melody at first but, as the song wound down and the dancing began to stop, the words seemed to affect Sarah. _But I'll be there… As the world falls down… It's falling… Falling in love… _Whatever it was, Sarah could not accept his claim that he had fallen in love with her. She rebuked him, running from his very touch, fighting through the crowd to get away from him. She found the exit and, with strength he had never before attributed to the girl, she used a chair to smash through the crystal, ending her own Ball.

But, just because she chose to leave the dream, it did not mean that Jareth believed that his words were forgotten. There was a flicker of uncertainty as they were in the Escher room – he was almost positive that he saw it. She wanted him, as much as a fifteen year old babe could desire a Fae.

However, she chose to save her brother over remaining Underground with Jareth. That did not mean that, given other circumstances, Sarah would not acquiesce to being his Queen. And, now, as he perched outside of her room, watching the girl speak with and enjoy the companionship of those she met in the labyrinth – the dwarf, the small knight, the hairy beast – Jareth waited his turn.

The fourteenth hour had begun. And the Goblin King was ready this time.


	2. 13

Author's Note: _Well, I have never had such a great reception to a first chapter before. 17 reviews, wow. You guys are definitely going to spoil me – I'm going to want to see that much feedback all the time now. I just hope that this next chapter will live up to the first one. It's going to be a bit different than anything I've ever done before – it's definitely not going to be all that happy in the beginning, I know that much – but I hope you guys all hang on for the ride. It should be interesting. Yay :) _

Disclaimer: _These are always mandatory when dabbling in fan fiction. If there is anything at all that is reminiscent of the 1986 fantasy film _Labyrinth_, then it probably belongs to Jim Henson, et al., including (but not limited to) the characters of Sarah Williams & Jareth, the Goblin King. Any other characters are the property of this author._

--

Fourteen

_You may think you know about what happened after those 13 hours.  
__You don't._

--

PART TWO  
_Tonight I'll plunder heaven blind, steal from all the gods!  
Tonight I'll take from all mankind, conquer all the odds!  
__And I feel alive…_

--

The party did not last long. As much as she enjoyed being surrounded by her newfound friends, Sarah _was _tired (time re-ordered or not, 13 hours was a long time) and, at the same time, she was aware that it could not be long before the noise attracted the attention of her father or her stepmother. As it was, she could not understand how they had not come upstairs to check on her yet.

In the back of her mind, as she sat beside Ludo, watching Hoggle argue with Didymus over an attempt to put the word _canst_ down on the Scrabble board, Sarah could not help but wonder if this was all a dream – that _everything _had been a dream. The labyrinth, the goblins, Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus… _The Goblin King_. But, if it _was _a dream, Sarah did not want to wake up just yet.

However, dream or not, all good things have to come to an end and, almost as quickly as their little shindig began, it was over. With regretful goodbyes, insistent promises that _should she need them_, and plenty hairy kisses courtesy of Ludo, the citizens of the labyrinth returned Underground.

Now, as Sarah slid out of her shoes and began to change out of her jeans and blouse and into a nightgown, she could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. It was almost as if she felt the eyes of another on her… as if she was not as alone as she assumed herself to be. Chiding herself for the silly notion – she had seen everyone fade into the glass of her vanity – Sarah did a quick sweep of her bedroom. Just in case.

She had always had an overactive imagination, ever since she was a small child. Growing up with an actress for a mother instilled a flair for dramatics into her, while, at the same time, reminding her that certain things are not always as they seem (though, perhaps, it should be added that her journey through the labyrinth had reawakened and strengthened that understanding). So, while wearing her nightgown over the blue jeans she had yet to change out of, Sarah dropped to her knees and lifted her comforter's edge up off of the floor. Her eyes scanned under her bed quickly but, apart from a few stray dust bunnies, there was nothing there.

The girl wiped her hands on her jeans as she climbed up and stood back up. She glanced around the room and decided that her closet might be a great hiding spot if someone had wanted to spy on her. She slid the door open and, after looking through her wardrobe of school clothes and costumes, found nothing.

The strange feeling did not dissipate and Sarah wondered whether it might be coming from outside of her room. She shuffled, her bare feet dragging against her floor, over to her closed bedroom door and swung it open. Only darkness met her – her father and step-mother had obviously gone to bed for the night – and Sarah sighed. She shut the door with considerably less force than she had opened it with, not wanting to disturb her parents or her baby brother's sleep.

Sarah shrugged and, convinced that she had been imagining the sensation, shimmied out of her jeans. She left her discarded clothing on the floor, telling herself that she would put it in the hamper for Karen to do the laundry tomorrow, and went back over to her vanity. Though she was tired and longed to climb in her bed and go to sleep, the quick run about her room had woken her up a bit. She knew that sleep would elude her for some time and, rather than lie in the darkness, she took a seat at the dresser.

She was not sure what she would see when she looked in the reflective glass – would it show her a way into the Underground, the way that her friends had found their way into her room? – but all she saw was the reflection of a fifteen year old girl. The attractive girl in the mirror had long, straight brown hair and vibrant green eyes that sparkled with life even though there were the beginnings of a set of bags darkening below them.

But there was something different about her reflection now. Though it _was _Sarah, it was a Sarah that had seen much in a short period of time. There was a bit of wisdom about the girl now. The girl in the mirror sat up straight and stared defiantly back at her twin.

_Sometimes the way forward is the way back…_

Sarah held the pose for a few seconds longer before she exhaled loudly and let her body relax. She glanced back at the glass and, this time, only saw a teenager in her pajamas. She laughed at the image and stood up from her seat. Her adventure had ended – she was plain, ordinary Sarah Williams again, not a heroine – and, whether or not she believed in what had happened to her, she knew it was over.

As if she was trying to put it all behind her in one symbolic action, Sarah set her head and nodded to herself as she walked over to the light control. With one flick of that switch, the small room was bathed in darkness. Sarah let out a second sigh and climbed into her bed. She closed her eyes and, once she was stationary, sleep was not too far behind her.

She really was tired.

--

When Sarah believed that someone was watching her, she had been correct. But the culprit was not within her room – though he rather would have liked to have been there with her; instead, he was still waiting outside for her, perched ever so carefully on a tree branch. He watched as the girl spent time with those creatures that had disobeyed him and helped her during her journey through the labyrinth and he watched as she changed out of her clothing. He watched as she amusingly searched through her room – _she can feel my presence, _he thought to himself, _how promising _– and he watched as she sat down at her vanity, staring at herself within the mirror's glass.

His time finally came when she turned off her light. The light reflected in the owl's unblinking eyes vanished as her room was swallowed up by the dark. He ruffled his feathers impatiently as he regained his footing on the branch. It would only be a matter of time until Sarah had fallen asleep and he could retrieve her.

The distance from where he sat to where she slept was considerable enough that Jareth allowed the nocturnal vision of his owl form to take precedence. Turning his head a bit to his right, he stared inside Sarah's window and could see that she was lying on her bed. Her eyes were closed and her chest was falling and rising in a steady rhythm – she had already fallen asleep.

Quickly, and silently, he rose from his perch and soared downward. Halfway through his descent, he changed direction and let the still night air lift him upwards. The dull feathers on his wings guided him quietly across the sky until he had wheeled around and was facing her window. He slowed his approach so that he did not careen into the glass and curled his head inward so that it made contact with the window without injuring him.

Jareth did not need to fight with the latch. Sarah, he found, had left the window partially open, allowing him entry, whether that was her intent or not. To the Goblin King, though, it justified his means and, to his mind, gave him allowance to continue with his plan. The way he understood it, Sarah, by leaving her window open, was inviting him to take her away.

After all, wasn't that what she had cried before she wished her brother away?

_Someone save me. Someone take me away from this awful place!_

He had always done as she asked; he had been overly generous in an attempt to show her how far his affection extended. She asked that the child be taken, he took him. She cowered before him in anticipation of fear, so he was frightening. He even went so far to reorder time and turn the very world upside down for her… and yet she turned him away in favor of saving her brother.

Now he was going to do what she asked for in the first place. He was going to save her; he was going take her away. And then they would both be satisfied. She would have a savior and he would have a Queen.

Jareth pushed the window inward and soared inside the room. He had seen Sarah's chambers countless times, all through his magickal crystals, but this was the first time that he had set foot inside of the room. He quickly morphed from his owl form into his humanoid shape and, breathing in deeply, he savored the scent of the area. He could smell vanilla and lilies, a scent so unmistakably Sarah, and he tried not to let out an audible moan. It would not do well, after all, if he alerted the girl to his very presence before he had bespelled her.

The very essence of this room threatened to overpower his senses. Her innocence was almost tangible, with the childish reminders scattered all over – the books, the dolls, the toys… His eyes, still strong in the darkness while standing as a man, made out the bookend that so resembled the dwarf at his labyrinth's gate and the stuffed fox that was Didymus. He even saw the print on her wall that looked like his room of stairs.

A small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. He had seen Sarah's possessions through the crystal's shape countless times but to see them in person excited him. He was sure that the girl would reason that the uncanny similarities between the objects and the truth of the labyrinth were the result of the strength of her imagination but he knew better. The labyrinth itself had called to her, influencing the very things she purchased and received. It was as if the labyrinth had chosen the girl for him and had prepared her the only way it knew.

But, despite the labyrinth's careful preparations – though they worked in the sense that Sarah accepted everything she met in the labyrinth as truth – and Jareth's even more careful observations – how many times had he watched her recite the very lines that had called her attention to him? – he had failed. The girl turned him away and chose to return Aboveground rather than stay with him in the Underground.

Not that her refusal meant anything more to the Goblin King than a dig at his pride. By invoking him and his goblins, Sarah had unwittingly given herself over to the King. Jareth never did anything for nothing and, with every other babe whisked away to the Underground, he assumed that he would either own Toby, Sarah, or both of them by the time that the bell tolled the thirteenth hour.

But, for the first time since he had been monarch of the Goblin Kingdom, someone had bested the labyrinth, recovering the child they had carelessly wished away. But that did not mean that the Goblin King would come away from it all empty-handed. True, he offered Toby in reward for Sarah beating the labyrinth – he could not, by the Laws of the Labyrinth, keep him. However, nowhere in the rules did it say that he could not keep Sarah. And that was exactly what he planned on doing. Either way, he had truly been the victor… as always. After all, what good was his game – his labyrinth – if he was not always the winner?

Jareth composed himself as he removed his traveling cloak and set it over the chair near Sarah's vanity. In order to do what he had in mind, he needed total concentration; he could not afford to be distracted by the very scent of the girl. He could spend all eternity smelling her – tasting her, _loving _her – once she belonged to him entirely.

He took a deep breath and closed his strangely colored eyes. Fae magick was inherent to one of his kind and never took more energy than was necessary to spin his hand. However, the magick he had in mind was entirely different and took great effort to make sure that it did not go wrong. Goblin magick, while simple enough to make sure that any of the creatures he ruled could do it, was quite difficult for a Fae. It was hard for Jareth to do something simply and he found the magick quite complex.

In total silence and utter blindness, Jareth called to the magick. He felt it welling in his gloved fingertips and, as the heat spread down to his wrists, he opened his eyes. Once he felt the warmth reach his elbows, he knew he had conjured enough power to begin the weaving.

Slowly, and deliberately, he pulled the leather gloves from his hands and placed them on top of his cloak. The whiteness of his seldom viewed flesh was prominent in the darkness, even more so since the magick made the skin glow outwardly. Jareth held one hand out, palm side up, and waved its brother over it. When he pulled the second hand back, there was a spool of a light, sheer gauze-like material setting in the slight bowl his hand made. Gossamer.

He lifted the gossamer up and tossed it into the darkness before holding his hands outward. It floated delicately downwards but paused when it was at height of his outstretched hands. It settled on the air as if there was a support beneath it. The magick was working.

Nimble fingers began an intricate dance, touching nothing but, with every jerk of his forefingers and thumbs, the gossamer pulled. Not before long, the fabric began to weave itself into a pattern – while most of it remained pure white in color, there was a long, dark line that began to develop in the midst of the weaving.

Jareth caught sight of the growing darkness and knew that he had performed the goblin magick sufficiently. He continued to move his fingers, this way and that, until all that was left of the gossamer was one thick braid, entirely black.

It was a perfect nightmare.

As the broad strand continued to float before him, coiling up like a snake as it waited to be released, Jareth reached for his gloves and pulled them back on. All of his work would be wasted if he so much as touched the gossamer with his bare flesh. Instead, with protected fingers, he roped the magick up his left sleeve and approached Sarah's bedside.

He waved his free hand over her sleeping form, taking great care to deepen her slumber. He was not sure how painful it was to insert a nightmare and he did not want her waking up in the middle of the process. Once he was sure that there was no chance that she would regain consciousness as he leaned over her, Jareth kneeled down on the ground.

Sarah was sleeping on her side but her long hair covered her ear. It was a bit of a problem for the Goblin King – he had wanted to restrain his lust for this mortal child by waiting to receive her Underground before he made contact with her again. It had taken almost all of his strength not to run his fingers down her back while they were dancing at Sarah's Masquerade Ball. He was not sure that he could hold himself back, especially when she was so vulnerable, sleeping soundly before him.

However, he knew that, in order to complete his aim of stealing her away, he needed to complete this first. So, his gloved hands shaking slightly, he brushed away her hair – it was soft, he noticed –and revealed her ear to him. As soon as her pale flesh was present, he quickly pulled hand back so as not to make any additional contact with the sleeping girl.

Jareth then brought forward his left hand and set the edge of the gossamer against her ear. Once the woven fabric touched the mortal skin, the magick took over and, within the blink of an eye, the gossamer was gone.

And, with a second wave of his hand, so was Sarah.


	3. 12

Author's Note: _Well, when people tell me they like a story, I do my best to continue with it. I really am enjoying writing this story – trying my hand at a darker path for the characters – and it makes me feel all warm and gushy inside that I have people who are interested in seeing this story grow. And I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and, of course, review it (and, don't worry, the story will get happier… eventually). Major kudos to InuLvr7 for knowing the introduction lyrics. I was waiting to see if anyone was going to tell me ;) And, just because I'm going to be on this kick for a bit... I finally finished college today. Either that means more time for updates or less (since school was a good place to write), who knows. But no more school for me. Woot._

Disclaimer: _These are always mandatory when dabbling in fan fiction. If there is anything at all that is reminiscent of the 1986 fantasy film _Labyrinth_, then it probably belongs to Jim Henson, et al., including (but not limited to) the characters of Sarah Williams & Jareth, the Goblin King. Any other characters are the property of this author._

--

Fourteen

_You may think you know about what happened after those 13 hours.  
__You don't._

--

PART THREE  
_It's a sin with a name, no remorse and no shame, fire, fury and flame,  
cause the devil's to blame and the angels proclaim…  
It's a dangerous game!_

--

He transported the slumbering girl with him to his castle but kept her in suspension upon arrival. This was an unexpected visit, after all, and, what with the glamour that had been draped over the castle during her initial thirteen hours, Jareth was a bit perplexed as to where he should lay Sarah down. So, after he arrived in the reverted version of his throne room – almost an exact duplicate of the illusory room, but cleaner and without the goblins lounging about – he conjured another of his crystals.

Jareth sent the translucent orb spinning up and down his arms, more in thought than out of necessity. It had seemed so easy, just after being so ruthlessly rejected by the girl, to follow her Aboveground and steal her away. Goblin magick, so very unlike the Fae magick he had casually offered her, was the perfect way to ensnare her and catch her off guard. But what now?

He did not want to break Sarah in order to achieve her unquestioning affection, that much was obvious. It was her determination and naïvely wrought confidence – and, of course, the utter disdain with which she had regarded him – that intrigued him so; what good would she be to him if she dimmed from the spitfire he knew her to be. Yes, he would still be endeared towards the girl – her words or not, she _still _held significant power over him and, if he did not ache for her so, he would hate her – but it would not be the same. No, he needed to go about this in a different manner than which he would normally approach a dilemma.

There was really only one way he could do this, a way that was so inherent to his nature that he could be honest and just a bit cruel; he would play a game, a dangerous game, with Sarah. It would be, as the mortals said, a game of _cat and mouse_, and Jareth much preferred the role of predator. In a way, during her run of the labyrinth, he had been her prey, albeit powerful prey, what with waiting in the castle for her to come for him and retrieve the babe he had whisked away at her request. But now… now it was his turn to be in pursuit.

An untamed grin lifted the ends of his mouth. He had already started the game – even if Sarah had no idea that she was the player (and the prize). By accepting the power he had gifted to her, even if she did not accept the gifts he offered her later, and wishing away her brother, Sarah had given part of her will to him; the claim Jareth held only increased when she was able to take back the boy. Yes, she had recovered her brother but nowhere in the deal was her freedom. After all, the Goblin King never did anything without getting something in return. She wanted her brother returned Aboveground; the result was a forfeit of her own freedom. That the magick allowed Jareth to bring Sarah with him back to the castle only cemented his resolve. He had the labyrinth's blessing.

Jareth, a master game player himself, was very particular of the rules. An omission of intent – as in that the girl wanted her own freedom as well as that of Toby's – was just as bad as waiving all of her rights. Sarah, he mused, should have known better.

But where could he place Sarah – where could she be kept until she freely gave her will to him? He could take her by force, he was well aware of that, but where would the sport be if he just enchanted the girl? He had spent centuries looking for the perfect companion to rule beside him, he was not about to lose the one that had all but _enchanted _him just because she was too young to understand the extent of a Fae's dedication. Jareth knew that if he did not handle this situation _just so_ then he would have an empty shell of a Queen and, as much as he appreciated Sarah's beauty, he appreciated her fire all the more.

The orb was traveling across his hands and up and down his arms at a dizzying speed. It had been a few minutes since he had set the nightmare on Sarah but he knew that the gossamer would not wrap around her psyche until he wished it to do so. And, before he did that, he wanted somewhere to lay Sarah down to rest. The nightmare would be unpleasant enough – he desired that she be at least comfortable as the game began.

He was torn between setting her in the labyrinth – he was sure the maze would settle at her presence; he could feel the apprehension of the structure almost as soon as she had uttered those blasted words – and placing her in the castle. The glamour had faded, shattered and destroyed with those same words and he was concerned that if Sarah woke up in the glamour-free castle, she might not know where she was.

_Which might do me well, _Jareth thought as he let the crystal slide down his arm and into his waiting palm. Gripping it loosely with glove-adorned fingers, the Goblin King looked into the clear depths and envisioned the room he was about to conjure. Once he had the small room in mind, he threw the ball across the room and watched it hit the wall with a minor explosion of glitter and glass.

And he laughed. As he laughed, he waved his hand and sent Sarah from her suspension into the newly created room. Using his inner eye, he lowered the sleeping beauty down onto the silk bed. As soon as her head made contact with the soft pillow, he released the goblin magick.

_Let the game begin…_

--

_It was so dark. For a moment, Sarah thought that she might have left her eyes closed tight but after fluttering her eyelids rapidly, she put aside that notion. Her eyes were definitely open and it was still pitch black around her. Her hands outstretched before her, she took a couple of steps. She could tell by the smack of her soles against the floor that she was not wearing socks nor the gold-colored slippers she normally wore around the house (if she was even still in the house). Understanding that, she walked with even more care so that she would not trip and stub her bare toes. She had never been a fan of walking about barefoot – she felt her feet were far too sensitive for that._

_She did not know where she was or how, exactly, she had gotten to wherever she was but she knew one thing: she was not alone. Somewhere, hidden in the darkness, she could hear someone coming up behind her and her heart caught in her throat. Sarah paused, certain that her quickened breath could be heard from every corner of this area. _

_There came a snuffle, a familiar sound, before the soft feel of fur brushed up against her leg. She froze and, slowly, lowered her hand to touch the head of her companion. With a tentative sniff and a quick lick, the two of them recognized each other._

"_Oh, Merlin," she murmured as she lowered herself down to be close to the sheepdog. Her eyes were growing slightly accustomed to the dark and she could make out the shiny eyes beneath the mess of long hair. She brought her second hand forward and rubbed both sides of his muzzle. Again, she had no idea how her faithful old dog had gotten there, but she was glad. _

_He snuffled in response and nuzzled against her hands. It was very cozy just then, the pair of them glad to have found the other, when Merlin lifted his head up and sniffed. And then he did something that he rarely did: he barked and began to stumble forward, heavy limbs plodding ahead. _

_Sarah did not want to be left alone. Though there was something inside of her – something she had never truly felt before; it was quite terrifying, actually – that told her that she should not follow Merlin, that she should not leave the darkness, Sarah hurried after him. "Wait, boy. Hang on there, Merlin." Her feet slapping against the hard, cement floor, she ran until the dark gave way to a sliver of light and, in the one beam of illumination, she could see a flight of stairs._

_Merlin was sitting at the base of the steps, his forefront paws resting two stairs up. He had his head turned over the bulk of his body, almost as if he was waiting for Sarah to arrive there. Once he saw her approach, he barked again and started to climb the steps. It looked humorous to watch the great brute of a mutt navigate his way up but, as soon as he made it, Sarah decided she should follow suit. At least she knew it was safe; Merlin had to weigh at least a couple of pounds more than her thanks to nightly scraps at the kitchen table._

_It was strange. As soon as she was only a few stairs shy of the top, she noticed that there was no door. The flight of stairs just ended. "That's weird," she muttered to herself, two steps behind Merlin. "Are you sure we should be up here, Merlin?"_

_The dog barked his answer and, amazingly, stood on his hind legs. He extended as far as he could, straight upwards, until his head touched the ceiling. The sheepdog could not hold the pose and fell back on all fours but not before he drew his mistress's attention to the spot just above her head._

_The first thing that Sarah noticed was that there was a tiny gap, nearly two feet long and about a half inch across, that was letting the light in. She stood up on her tiptoes to get a better look. That was when she realized that it was not just a ceiling; it was the door that she had expected to be standing before her, rather than flat above her._

_The pang of fear and terror returned triple fold as she climbed up another step in order to reach the door. For some strange reason, she was not supposed to touch it and, hesitantly, she pulled her hand back. _

_Merlin did not approve of her indecision and barked again, much louder and more ferocious than before. The sound startled Sarah even more than her inner nerves and quickly raised her hand again. There was obviously something wrong with Merlin and it would be best if she climbed out of whatever place she was in and got him home._

_Sarah thought that it might be hard to lift the heavy-looking door that laid flat but it only took a quick push with both hands. Light flooded the stairway and she was blinded immediately. She lowered her hands to her eyes, eyes that were clamped closed against the offending brightness._

_She waited a few moments and tried opening them up again so that they could get used to the light. It stung but it was nowhere near as bad as the first dose of light that had hit her. As soon as she could keep her eyes open without blinking away to discomfort, Sarah lifted her hands up again. The ceiling contraption was split into two halves of the door, folded inward, so, after opening the first half, she turned to the second._

_Sarah paused, though, before she pushed up against the door. With the light – wherever this door led, it led outside – she could see her hands… hands that were heavily coated in dust and dirt, as if she had not showered or bathed in weeks. The sight frightened her and she pulled her hands up to her face to get a better look. "What the…" she murmured in disgust. She could not remember where she was or how she had gotten there and she could not remember how she had come to be so filthy either. _

_The fear in the pit of her stomach returned but she pushed it aside. She hated to be dirty and, besides looking out for Merlin, Sarah knew she had to get out of the darkness in order to wash up. Vaguely, as she opened the door and, climbing the remaining stairs so she could hoist herself up, she wondered whether or not that was why she felt so nervous, because she was so dirty. She could only imagine what Karen would say when she saw her._

_Not surprisingly, the thought of her stepmother only increased her anxiety._

_She helped Merlin out of the stairwell first before climbing out herself. The dog was barking happily, waiting for her besides the door; when she pulled herself up, she brushed her hands off and then reached over to pet her dog. However, as she leaned over, she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye: her father's car._

_Sarah lifted her head up and, momentarily leaving Merlin be, she spun around, taking in her surroundings. There was her house, and her street, and the great tree that had always stood outside. She turned to look at the hole she had just emerged from. It was about twenty feet from the house and she would swear that she had never seen it before. Quickly, she dropped to her bare knees – ignoring both the liberal amounts of dirt that coated her legs and feet and the rag of a nightgown that only extended just past her thighs – and shut the two doors. When they were closed, she saw that they were made of metal and had a place for a lock; the open lock, she saw, was lying just beside the closed grate._

_She could not understand it. She knew perfectly well what it looked like but how do you reason being locked up in the ground, beside the house you lived in? And to be freed by her dog? Just what was going on? She had no idea..._

"_Sarah, what do you think you are doing?"_

_The icy cool voice was extremely familiar – reading her bedtime stories, telling her that she was his princess – but, of all the times she had heard it, she had never known it to take on such a tone, no matter how angry she made him. She spun around and saw her father, looking much older and more tired than she had known him to be. There were dark bags under his eyes and his mouth was a straight line._

"_Dad?"_

"_You know that you're not allowed to leave your cell. Do we have to punish you again?"_

_Hazy memories of severe pain and empty hunger floated before her mind and she shivered. It was only then that she noticed the state of her clothes (or lack thereof) – it was her favorite nightgown but it was so worn that it had holes throughout it, is was much shorter than it used to be and it was missing her right sleeve. "Daddy? I don't understand…"_

"_Robert?" Karen poked her blonde head out of the front door, following her husband. She was tender when speaking to the man but, when she saw Sarah standing there, with Merlin, as her protector, sitting at her feet, her blue eyes went hard. "Robert. What is she doing out? I can't stand to see her out. Get rid of her."_

_Robert Williams nodded and took a step forward, towards his trembling daughter. "You know better, Sarah. This is what happens to naughty little girls who hurt their baby brothers." _

Toby? _Sarah matched his step with one of her own, backing away so as to increase the distance between her and this man. He was too menacing to be her father and she was alarmed. "What do you mean? What did I do to Toby?"_

_Karen laughed. It was a low, cruel laugh that seemed to be masking quite a deal of pain. She shook her head royally and pointed accusingly at Sarah. "Why, you made him vanish. And for that you will pay. You wicked little stepdaughter."_

_Now, if Sarah had not been so hurt and afraid and… confused… by the actions of her family, Sarah might have noticed the beautiful white barn owl that was perched above her, watching her intently. But she did not. And maybe that was for the best._

_Instead, she just collapsed as the weight of her stepmother's words washed over her. When her father made his way over to her, she did not fight as he pulled her to her feet. With an iron grip on her sickly thin wrist, much tinier than the wrist she remembered, Robert held onto her as he opened the door back to the hole in the ground. With a quick wrench of her arm, he tossed her inside and slammed the grate back down._

_And then… she only knew the dark. _


	4. 11

Author's Note: _Yeah, these chapters are getting longer and longer each time I write them. Which is a good thing, I guess. Lots of detail and stuff. Yay. And, yes, I know that I wanted to have this updated sooner but, guess what, I did work on this story – I actually wrote the last two chapter, and I'm sure that you will either all hate me or all be extremely pleased. However, there's still a good 8 or 9 chapters to go until then. For now, here's chapter four. Read, review… you know, the usual ;) And, happy New Year. May 2007 be swell and full of Labyrinth love. _

Disclaimer: _These are always mandatory when dabbling in fan fiction. If there is anything at all that is reminiscent of the 1986 fantasy film _Labyrinth_, then it probably belongs to Jim Henson, et al., including (but not limited to) the characters of Sarah Williams & Jareth, the Goblin King. Any other characters are the property of this author._

--

Fourteen

_You may think you know about what happened after those 13 hours.  
__You don't._

--

PART FOUR  
_Look at me, and tell me who I am, why I am, what I am…  
__Will I survive?  
Who will give a damn, if no one knows who I am?_

--

The room that Jareth conjured was far enough from his bedchambers that the girl, when she awoke, would not feel threatened but close enough that the Goblin King would sleep soundly knowing that, _finally_, she was near; that, after all the scrying and spying he had done, she was _his._ It was a small room – only a bit larger than her old room Aboveground – but he did not want to overwhelm her. When the goblin magick wore off, she would be disoriented. Add that to her predictable reaction to learning that she had been reclaimed as the King's prize, and Jareth wanted to set things as familiar for her as he could.

That did not mean that he went so far as to bring Sarah's belongings into the Underground with her. Much of her clothing and her toys were far too old – secondhand and ill cared for – and had no place in the castle. She would have no need for her books or any of her wardrobe; if she desired anything, anything at all, all she had to do was ask him. He would be more than willing to conjure it for her.

It was a strange shaped room, a squashed square with one angle the jutted outwards onto one of the towers. He had seen Sarah sitting at her window more times than he could count and knew that the girl would appreciate the view into the hidden garden of the great maze. He even set up a banister with which she could lean and relax. Quite generous, really.

Jareth kept the room bare – he would fill it when he had both the energy to expend and the designs of Sarah's want – but for the giant bed in the center and the handcrafted (by the dwarf artisans of a neighboring kingdom) wooden dresser that he had sat by her bed. Atop her dresser, he left two gifts from her old life: the dog-eared old copy of her red book and the music box that, even though it was silent, he could already hear the faint notes of _Greensleeves. _He adored that sound. Along with the scent of vanilla and lilies, the simple tinkling of that song reminded him solely of the mortal girl; such was his selfish reason of bringing along the trinket. Everything else would vanish into nonexistence once Sarah had submitted as if the girl had never been.

He covered the large bed with silk suited for Sarah's gentle flesh before setting her down upon it. The pillow was wide and filled with the feathers of thirteen swans; her head settled in the center of the cloth, barely making a mark against it. Her long hair, dark and wild in the candlelit room, was splayed out against the bed, causing a sharp contrast against the whiteness of the bed and the whiteness of her face.

There was a calmness that resided over her facial features save for her brow; the faint creases that marred the flesh were the only indications that the girl was not sleeping as peacefully as one would think. Her chest was slowly rising and falling, the worn fabric of her faded nightgown following along with the motion.

Jareth, who had transported himself instantly to Sarah's bedside once the bedside had been created, watched with an unblinking eye as she slumbered. He had not covered her body with any sort of blanket – it was purposely warm in this room and, besides, he did not want to deprive himself of such a sight – and, as he spied, he felt that the nightgown she had donned before falling asleep was unworthy of being pressed against her skin. With a simple wave of his hand, he conjured a glamour crystal and, much like he had done when he dressed Sarah for her Masquerade Ball, he sent it gently in her direction.

The transparent orb wafted over her sleeping form, sending sparkles of magick across her. The glamour began once it crossed the frayed hem of her nightgown, transforming the cloth from the primeval cotton she wore to the Fae-specified trance fabric of spun moonbeam, flecked with stardust. The silver color of the simple design suited her perfectly and smoothed to her every curve; the sleep dress fell to her knees and extended to her neck before cutting off at her sleeves, providing him with a further view of her flesh.

Jareth knew that he was pushing the bounds much more than he should. He had only just retrieved the girl and placed her in her own chamber and, already, he was dressing her in a manner that solely served to please him. He would have to be much more careful with his actions or, before he knew it, he would lose control. He was aware that Sarah was, to her kind, still considered a child – though he knew better; one could not be considered a child after attempting the labyrinth… and to be the first mortal to successfully navigate… – and, as such, he needed to be careful with her.

Though he refused to leave her side – he not only desired to watch her nightmares play out through the use of his crystals but he also desired to be there when she finally awoke – Jareth stepped away from the bed. The lure of the girl, so beautiful and determined yet so very vulnerable, was too strong and he did not trust himself enough to stay so close. He did not leave the room but he did commit himself to the furthest corner of the room.

And it was there that he conjured another crystal and turned it to the nighttime visions he had implanted into Sarah's psyche. The first had worked perfectly to his mind. What better way to crumble her protection than by showing her the one thing she feared: the loss of her family. It had been that thought – that her family preferred the baby to her, that her mother did not want her and that her stepmother despised her – that led Sarah to wish Toby away in the first place. A second shot of indecision would cause further damage to her resolve, he was sure.

However, in order for his plan to work, he needed to guide her through a second dream, if a somewhat shorter one. It would be much less of a nightmare, at least, he hoped she would view it that way, and it would showcase just how generous he could be; just what he could give her, if only she let him. As if he had not done everything that he thought of in order to show the girl that already…

--

_It was so very dark. There was plenty of physical pain, too – her wrist ached and she had slid down a few steps after her father had so cruelly tossed her into the hole in the ground – but nothing beat the emotional turmoil that Sarah was going through at that moment. _

_The tears had begun to flow almost as soon as she heard the grate crash down above her, blocking the sunlight from her and condemning her back to this undeserving existence. Or was it deserving? According to both her father _and _her stepmother, Toby was gone and it was all her fault – and, as punishment, she was kept underground. _

_It was ironic, really. If her parents were to be believed, then she _had _wished away her brother but, instead of winning as she thought she had, she must have lost him to the Underground. So, in a way, they were both sentenced to a life below the world they knew: Toby in the Goblin Kingdom, Sarah locked away below her home. _

_Of course, that was if she believed it all. And, while she could not understand why her father and Karen would lie to her and treat her in such a way if it were not true, she could not comprehend what was going on. She had no recollection as to what had happened prior to this moment. It was as if she had not existed before Merlin found her at the base of these steps. _

_The tears continued to run but they were silent tears. She hurt too much to expend the energy required to let out a heartfelt sob – and, besides, it was not as if she had an audience for her misery. She had heard her parents return to the house after locking her up again, her father murmuring comfort to his second wife. Even Merlin, with an echo of a bark, had left her again. And she was alone. _

_How long the girl remained on those steps, trying hard to remember, and trying equally as much not to devote any mind to the situation she had found herself in, she did not know. It was long enough for the sliver of light that wound its way through the minute gap to thin and fade to nothingness. There was only darkness and sorrow. _

_It was then, when the light snuffed out and Sarah felt that things could not get possibly worse, that Sarah began the slow descent down these rickety stairs. The physical pain had given way only to sharp numbness; she felt nothing, not even against the sensitive soles of her bare feet, as she brought herself even further underground. It was strange, she thought as she continued to descend, that the stairs seemed to go down much further then she remembered from her earlier climb. Chalking that up to her hurry to get out of the darkness – she must not have paid as close attention to her ascent – she continued feeling her way down until the ground was level. _

_Once there was nowhere else to go, she paused. Having no memory of being in this dungeon before that day, she did not know what she would find – and did not care to explore. Right then, all she wanted to do was lean up against that bottommost stair and cry herself to sleep. Maybe then, when she woke up, everything would have turned out to be just a bad dream. _

_She sniffled and curled herself up into a ball. Knowing that all she wore were rags that had once been her favorite nightgown made Sarah shake with a chill. She wrapped her dirty arms around her torso and tried to will herself warm. However, just as she felt that it could not get any worse, any warmth she had evaporated; it was suddenly far colder than it had been – almost as if a cruel wind had found its way underground. _

_Sarah did not pay much mind to the strange wind; as it was, she had too many problems of her own. But, when she heard the crackling of dirt under a heavy, boot-covered step, she was alert. Just like before, when Merlin found her in this hole, she was no longer alone. _

_"Who—who's there?" she whispered, trying not to sound as frightened as she was feeling. _

_"Who do you want to be here?" was the response. Whoever it was – and Sarah had the sinking feeling that she knew exactly who it was, as improbable as it was – was matching her tone. But they did not sound the least bit frightened; instead, there was a seductive quality to their voice. _

_"Go away. Leave me be," she replied, drawing further strength into her voice. It was bad enough that she had been thrust into such a situation because of him. If this was all true, then the Goblin King was to blame for everything that had happened to her. "You stole Toby." _

_"No," he answered as he drew closer to her. Though dark as it was, Sarah could make out his intimidating form – it was him. The Goblin King. She would know that wild blond hair, that feral smile and the shiny cloak he wore anywhere. As the rest of him was dressed in black, she could not tell where he began, nor ended, but the lightness of his features caught her attention and, ironically, caused her to blush. She could tell from the whites of his eyes that he was staring intently at her, an expression quite similar to the one he had bestowed on her before she defeated him… but she could not have defeated him if he had Toby… "I took him as a favor to you. You asked that he be taken, and I took him. You should be grateful, Sarah." _

_She could only hope that he could not see in the darkness; her knees were shaking slightly and her eyes still held tears but, when she spoke, she regained that confidence she had when running the labyrinth. "Grateful? Are you kidding? You _took_ Toby alright but look at me. Look at me!" _

_"Yes, well, this is unfortunate. If only you would have accepted your dreams. You should have known that I would have won – I always win in the end, Sarah, remember that – and that there was no way you could retrieve your baby brother. You would have had your dreams and not be stuck in this hovel." _

_Her knees were still shaking but not from fright (though he was still intimidating her); she was angry at his nerve. How dare he blame the outcome on her? "This is not my fault. I can't bel—" _

_"Believe it," Jareth said, cutting her off. His voice had an edge to it, like sharp steel, but, when he spoke again, he had softened. "But, Sarah, I have come again with a proposition. Would you like to hear it?" _

_The girl was fuming. She could not understand the gall that the Goblin King had, appearing to her in such a state, wanting to play more games. However, what else could she do? "What is it?" _

_Though it was hard to tell in the blackness, she was almost positive she could feel the smile that crossed his devilishly handsome face. "I can take you away from all of this. Set you free from this darkness and bring you back into the light." _

_"And what would you want in return?" _

_"Why, you, of course. Did you forget my earlier offer, Sarah? Just fear me… love me… do as I say. And I will be your slave. It still holds, though I'm not sure how much longer I can keep it open for you. There is only so much rejection that a King can take." _

_He moved even closer, this time muffling his steps so that Sarah did not detect his presence until it was too late. Just like he had done, when he saw her in the below tunnels of the labyrinth, he leaned in close to her. As she was sitting on the dirt floor, he had knelt to be at her level and, before she knew it, his face was inches from hers. "What say you, Sarah?" _

_His intrusion into her person space spooked her more than she would later admit to. She pulled her head back and pushed at his firm chest, trying desperately to increase the amount of room between them. He was not prepared for her action and, though he did not stumble, he did rise. "Sarah…" he began warningly but, before he could finish his statement, the girl jumped to her feet. _

_She did not answer him – neither his offer, his question, or his stating of her name – but, instead, began to run. It was a childish reaction, but one she felt suited her purposes at that moment. All she knew was that the Goblin King was there and she no longer wanted to be. Rather than think through matters sensibly, she let her instincts take over and she ran. _

_Jareth chuckled lowly, a vindictive sound quite unlike any laugh Sarah had ever heard. It sounded so threatening, yet so promising; that chuckle intimidated her and, though the girl was aware how fruitless her efforts were, she tried to run more quickly. The Goblin King, after his chuckle had dispersed into the darkness, and she had gotten far enough away for his words to make an impact, decided to remind her who she was dealing with. "Sarah, when will you learn that no matter how far you run," he began before transporting himself a few feet in front of her, "I will always be the faster?" _

_Sarah squealed out in surprise. Though it was still so very dark – and she was running deeper into the darkness – her eyes were adjusted enough to make out the flash of his pendant and his shining cloak as he appeared right in front of her. She did not stop running, though. And, surprisingly, he did not reach for her, or try to halt her in any way as she frantically made her past. Instead, he just sighed. It was a soft, sad noise and so unlike anything she ever thought a cruel King could produce. For a moment, she wondered if it might be smarter to accept his offer but then she remembered who she was dealing with. And she ran. _

--

Sarah awoke with a terrifying jerk. Her forehead was slick with sweat and she was panting heavily, almost as if she was still running. But she had not been running… had she? It was a dream… wasn't it? Nothing more than a silly nightmare that came from telling Toby one too many bedtime stories about an imaginary Goblin King. Right?

The girl pulled herself up on her elbows and, closing her eyes in an attempt to push out the frightening images of the cruel, conniving King that had just been plaguing her, she took a deep breath. It was calming and, in the darkness, Sarah felt her lips curving. _It was only a nightmare, _she told herself, _and when you open your eyes, you're going to be home, sleeping in your bed. Visiting the Underground and meeting the Goblin King was nothing more than a dream. He's nothing more than a dream… _

But, before she could open her eyes, she felt the smoothness of her sheets against her elbows and paused. _Wait a second. I'm not in my bed… I'm not in _my_ bed… _

The realization hit her and her chest tightened. It was a feeling of immense fear and she could hear herself start to breathe heavily – as if she was trying to calm herself down or, at the very least, prepare herself for what she would find when she opened her eyes. _If_ she opened her eyes. At that moment, Sarah felt that she would be satisfied in remaining in the darkness for as long as she could. Ignorance was bliss, after all, and if she kept herself hidden away in that ignorance, then she would have no need to learn where exactly she was (if she was not in her bed).

Sarah was, of course, aware that she could not sit there, with her eyes clamped shut, forever. It was a childish suggestion and she was not a child. She would have to face the truth – whatever the truth was. For all she knew, she began to reason more rationally (though, it should be noted, she still had not opened her eyes), Karen might have just changed her sheets and she had been too tired before to notice it.

_Of course. I mean, what was I thinking? If I wasn't in my bed, then where was I? _She was calming considerably. She even cracked a small smile as she thought about how foolish she had been, automatically assuming the impossible; just because she had had a series of wicked nightmares, it did not mean that those phantoms had come to life and stolen her away. She was just being paranoid.

Chiding herself for automatically blaming her upset on bogeymen, phantoms, and, dare she think it, goblins, Sarah rubbed the cooling sweat from her forehead and opened her eyes. It was dark but something was not quite right. It took her a few seconds – a few seconds, during which her heart began to speed up and her fear returned – to realize that there was candle, a lit candle, beside her bed. And that candle was illuminating a bed that was not hers.

_Where am I? _

Her eyes were searching eagerly through the darkness and, using the candle, she knew that she was not in her room. Apart from that, there were no other clues. Well, not right away. After those first few (tense) seconds, Sarah began to scream. The sound erupted from her before she had given the command but it felt like the right thing to do – until a hand, as if appearing out of nowhere, gingerly place itself over her mouth, effectively muffling her screams.

She was still sitting up in the bed and, as soon as the hand appeared, she felt the hardness of a body pressed up against her back. Someone was sitting in the bed with her. And, though Sarah wanted nothing more than to stare straight ahead so that she would never meet eye to eye to whomever it was that had placed her in this room, she did notice one thing – one thing that gave away the identity of her (undesired) companion: the hand was enshrouded in a leather glove.

Confronted with such a realization, Sarah lost it entirely. It seemed that every time she had convinced herself that her meeting with the Goblin King had been nothing more than fantasy – whether it was a dream or a nightmare, Sarah was not entirely sure – a reminder came rushing forward, dashing her illusion to bits. And, what better way to verify that he was, in fact, real than to embrace her?

Sarah did not want to understand what was going on. She did not want to believe that this was true, that it was not just an elaborate continuation of her earlier nightmares. So, rather than turn around and face her fears (and supposed imagination), she did the only thing she could. She slipped back into unconsciousness. Perhaps when she woke up again, the strong hold of a fantastical King would have disappeared and she would be home again. In her own bed, preferably. Because, obviously, Sarah would never give into the Goblin King. He had no power over her… right?


	5. 10

Author's Note: _I really am enjoying this story. It's going to be dark and, for that, I am happy. I like a vengeful, unaffected Jareth (well, unaffected by everything but Sarah, of course). I see their love as a game – an obsession to the breaking point. I hope to portray this while, at the same time, trying to show how I think the movie could have continued on (if we look at the movie with the assumption that Jareth is, in fact, in love with Sarah). I hope that anyone reads this enjoys it. I'm going to really be creating my own realm within this story and I hope it's easy to understand. Some parts might seem confusing but all will be revealed in good time. Until then, read, review, enjoy. Woot. _

Disclaimer: _These are always mandatory when dabbling in fan fiction. If there is anything at all that is reminiscent of the 1986 fantasy film _Labyrinth_, then it probably belongs to Jim Henson, et al., including (but not limited to) the characters of Sarah Williams & Jareth, the Goblin King. Any other characters are the property of this author._

--

Fourteen

_You may think you know about what happened after those 13 hours.  
__You don't._

--

PART FIVE  
_How_ _do you tell evil from good?  
Evil does well - good not so good!  
Evil's the one that is free everywhere -  
Good is the one that they sell!_

--

The sunlight filtered in through the half-opened bedroom window. It seemed to settle directly on the sleeping girl's face and, almost as if she could feel the intensity of the ray, she wrinkled her nose and turned her head away from it. Lost in a realm halfway between sleep and awake, Sarah struggled to retain her flimsy handle on continued slumber. She had had a very strange dream that robbed her of a full rest – now that dawn was approaching, she did not want to wake.

Her alarm clock had not gone off, blaring its obnoxious _bong… bong… bong…_; Karen had not called for her to get ready for the early session of Mass down at the Church. Therefore, the way Sarah figured it, as she snuggled her face into her pillow, the light was only bothering her because the window was open, not because it was time to rise. But hadn't she shut her window? She could not possibly have left it open, especially after the way she had watched the Goblin King enter through her parents' bedroom window – could she?

Just a hazy mention of the Goblin King within her mind broke the fragile hold she had on her unconsciousness. Her green eyes reluctantly opened and, as if she was remembering the _strange _nightmares she had had throughout the night, she sat up in the bed. There was one moment of quiet indecision before she was wide awake and alert. Earnestly, she began to glance around her room and was overly relieved to find that she was in her bedroom. She could see her familiar vanity and her row of books. There was her collection of stuffed toys and, of course, her music box.

She had the insane urge to pick up her music box and throw it across the room but she did not. The ceramic face of the dancer and her unseen mate seemed to mock her in the openness of the morning but, somehow, she quelled the childish desire. Rather than smash the figurine so that their perfect dance would never be again, she turned her face away.

Sarah pulled the blankets away from her and glanced down at her nightgown; unlike the rags she had worn during the first part of her nightmares, the nightgown was whole, even if it was the worn material she knew so well. She exhaled briskly, the breath she had not even known she had been holding coming out in a quick rush. It had been an irrational fear, she knew, brought on by a strange series of dreams.

_A labyrinth?_ _A Goblin King? Toby being stolen away just because I wished it? A Bog of Eternal Stench with permanent stink? _Sarah, the fear ebbing way, stood up out of her bed as she continued to make a list of the more realistic characters from her night-run imaginings. _Being thrown into a dungeon by my father and stepmother? And then a figment of my imagination offering to take me away from it all… _Just like she had thought to herself when she woke up, panting slightly for fear of her nightmare, the girl came up with a simple solution. "I've got to stop telling Toby fantasy stories before I go to bed," she mumbled as she crossed her bedroom.

Whether it was early or not, Sarah knew she was not going to be able to fall back asleep; she might as well head downstairs and get some breakfast before Karen starts nagging her to get ready for Service. Yawning, she reached for her door handle and, after turning the knob, swung the door in. But, when she gazed outward, she was not met with the simple white hallway that she knew but the intimidating form of the Goblin King, standing in a wide, rocky area.

"They're not just stories, Sarah," he said simply, blocking her exit by placing his hands on both sides of the doorframe and leaning inward.

Sarah did not know how to react. She wanted to shriek in surprise, she wanted to slam her bedroom door in his face, she wanted to pinch herself to make sure she was not still dreaming… but she did not do any of those things. Instead, with her mouth slightly ajar, she slowly turned around, presenting her back to him. If she was not facing her elaborate imaginings, the King would just fade into nothing… right?

There was one small problem with her logic. She had thought that she would be safe in the sanctuary of her room – that, as long as she was well within the security of those four walls, nothing could harm her – but, when she turned around, she found that she was no longer in her bedroom. The room she found herself in was large and bare; her various belongings had vanished, leaving only her copy of _Labyrinth _and that blasted music box behind.

The door slammed behind her, followed by a heavy echo, but Sarah was so surprised at her discovery that she did not even flinch. In fact, she did not make any movement until Jareth spoke up from behind her. "Do you like it, Sarah? It's yours."

"I… I don't want it," she whispered, strangely calm. She could not, for the life of her, understand what was going on. But it was that not she was just calm – she was numb, unaffected almost. Sarah, rather than waste her energy at growing distressed, took a deep breath and continued to stare at the room. When nothing present offered any explanation, she glanced at herself.

She made a strangled cry in the back of her throat as her eyes made contact with the clothes she wore. She was absolutely certain that she had worn her favorite nightgown before falling asleep – but the dress she wore now was so unlike her nightgown that the panic began to well. The dress was beautiful – she was not denying it – but it was nearly sheer; it covered much of her body, falling just above her knees, but was sleeveless and much too revealing for Sarah's taste. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest, though the King had not removed from his place behind her.

Her mouth was extremely dry, all of a sudden. She swallowed a few times, in rapid succession, in an attempt to control herself. The panic was threatening to rise, though she could feel the strange numbness deep within her battling to contain the fright. Finally, when she felt as if her throat was moist enough to speak again, Sarah whispered again. "Where am I?"

"You are home. These are your new chambers, Sarah. A little bare but I thought it best to wait until you were settled to decorate. Do you like it?" He reached for her shoulders – she was trembling – but did not set his fingers atop her free flesh. He left a buffer of a few inches; it would not be in his best interests to take advantage of the girl so early on.

She did not answer him right away. Maybe it was because she did not know how to respond, or maybe it was because she could not believe that she to answer him in the first place. Either way, Sarah stood there, hugging herself, as she tried to process what was happening. She found it impossible. It was much easier to believe that this was all just a continuation of a very realistic dream. "No," she replied, her voice small. "No. This isn't right. I shouldn't even be here. I was just in my room—"

The Goblin King dropped his hands and shook his head, though she could not see the action. "You were not, Sarah. The bedroom you saw was not yours but, instead, an illusion. Glamour. I thought it best if you woke up comfortable before told of your new… situation," he explained, interrupting her. "Quite generous of me, really. But, of course, we could not have you screaming again, could we? Not that I expect that you will scream. You can not."

Just like any child, when Sarah was told that she can not do something in such a haughty tone, her first instinct was to rebel and do such an action. At once, her mouth opened and she willed herself to scream… but the scream did not come. Her voice was silent; he was correct, she could not scream. She closed her mouth. _What's did he do to me?_

"Sarah," Jareth continued, never wavering from his arrogant tone, "take a seat on the bed. There is much we need to discuss this morning." He was not surprised to see that the girl's feet remained where she stood. He sighed and waved his hand. She moved at once. _She does not understand that I have the power now, _he knew, as he followed her over to the great bed. _She will need to understand at once, otherwise she will make herself ill in vain._ Not that he had expected anything less from the girl – it just unnerved him to know that her continued fight against him would lead to discomfort if she kept it up.

Sarah may not have understood the extents to his control over her, now that she was in the Underground again, but she knew that something was amiss when her feet brought her over to the bed. Without really thinking about it, she had decided to disobey every command he gave, to refuse anything he offered – yet, she found herself unable to do so. And that made the panic edge a little over the calm.

That did not mean that she was willing to listen to whatever it was that the Goblin King wanted to discuss with her. She did not want to hear anything he had to say – she did not want to hear his voice ever again. She sat down gingerly atop the silk-covered bed and, in an effort to block him out, Sarah lowered her head. She raised her hands up and placed them on top of her hair, conveniently covering her face with her arms.

Her fingers did not initially find just the soft tresses but, also, a ringlet of metal encircling the crown of her head. It had been a faint brush against her fingertips; however, as soon as she felt the cool, hard metal, her fingers began to explore as her breath quickened. It was a small circumference but in fact circled her entire head, except for the front. From what she could feel, there was a break in the circlet that was occupied by a round object.

Sarah lifted up her head. "What… is this?" She sounded frightened, and rightfully so.

Jareth joined her by the bed but did not sit beside. He stood before her, a towering figure who stared down upon her. She curled inwardly at his proximity but did not flinch until he presented an open palm and quickly filled it by conjuring a crystal. There was only enough time for the glass to reflect Sarah's puzzled expression before it formed a circular hand mirror. Carefully, he offered it out to the girl.

She accepted it, almost fearful to take anything from the King, almost fearful to see what it was that was on her head. Her hands were trembling but her grip on the glass was firm as she lifted it up. It was surely her reflection she saw in the mirror but there, on top of her familiar dark brown hair, was a golden band. Just as she had known from the feel of it, there was an open space at the front of the band. The open ends turned down into a slight curl, folded inward, and there was a green stone, roughly the size of a quarter, that sat in the open space.

Sarah knew what it was at once. There was nothing else it could be. However, that did not mean that she was going to accept that. She would not accept it until she heard it from his wicked lips. Until then, it was nothing more than a lie to her. "What is this?" she asked again, her voice barely more than a whisper. The panic had subsided and the calm had overtaken her as she stared at her reflection but, once the mirror had been lowered and she only could see mismatched eyes staring at her, the panic returned.

Jareth waved his hand and the mirror faded away into nothingness. The sooner that Sarah forgot about the ring on her head, the better. The magick inherent to the trinket would not work as well as it could if she lashed out against it. At first, he intended to fib, to create some false reasoning behind its place on her head. But, when she looked up at him, and her innocence just radiated off of her, he found he could not. Just as he could not deny her anything she desired, he could not lie to her when the question was so honestly asked.

"That is your crown, Sarah," Jareth said, simply. "It is a sign of your station."

"My… my station," she repeated. Her green eyes were clouded over and her lips formed the words 'my station' over and over again without making a sound. She did not seem to know what he meant… not right away, at least. Then there was a moment of sudden understanding, when the eyes widened and her mouth froze, partly open. She did not say anything, then. Her hands just frantically – the panic had won out – searched out the crown and pulled, as if by removing the band, she was denying his implication.

Of course, when Jareth had placed the crown upon her head as she slept, he had been expecting such a childish response. Sarah may have learned a great deal during those thirteen hours, but she had not learned everything. He sighed. "Do not even bother. It will never come off. Or, at least, it will only move when I relinquish the hold."

Sarah gave once last tug against the metal but he spoke the truth; the crown did not budge at all. It was attached to her head and, as that realization hit her, the crown seemed to grow inexplicably heavy. It was the final straw; she could not take any more. "When… when is that?" she asked, as the tears – real tears, hot and salty, unlike the ones that had flowed so freely in her nightmares – finally came.

"Why, never. Sarah, you belong to me now. I do not ever intend of letting you go. You shall be my Queen, forever," Jareth said, a bit perturbed by the sudden appearance of tears. He had expected shouts, he had expected tantrums. He had not expected tears. "But remember. Forever isn't that long at all."

"Forever?" Her chin was trembling with the effort of holding the tears back. She failed and the moisture began to spill over. She had no other response but to cry. She sat there, on the edge of that elaborate silk-coated bed, staring past the Goblin King, as the tears ran. One particularly quick teardrop made its way down her cheek and landed on her lip. The bitter taste of loss was a reminder that this could not be, as she fervently hoped but knew it could not be, a dream. "Forever…"

The Goblin King just let her cry. Nothing he could say would be able to console the girl so there was no need for him to try. She was mourning her family, mourning her freedom and he understood that. With time, the hurt would fade and her life Above would seem as nothing more than a realistic dream, thanks to the crown. It would be difficult until then but, if Jareth wanted to keep the girl as his prize, he was going to. Not even Sarah was going to prevent that. He had won and that was that.

--

Jareth left the girl behind him. There was almost a certain amount of finality to the closing of the door, as he locked Sarah in her new chambers. There was no going back now, he knew; sooner or later she would learn that, just as she had learned that life was not, in any shape or form, fair. She would cry herself out eventually and, when she did, he would finish their discussion. It would be pointless to continue explaining her duties to her in such a state.

He gave his head a royal shake, trying to get the sound of her muffled sobs out of his mind. He had, in a way, overestimated her reaction to his news. He knew she would be upset but he had never thought that she would be reduced to crying. The tears were a grave affront; in time, she would discover that as well. He would forgive her this one time. He might not be so lenient the next.

It would take cruelness to be kind, he had decided. If need be, he would refuse to show any affection towards her until she understood the depth which it ran. As of now, Sarah certainly believed that she was brought Underground to be his Queen out of spite, out of malice. There was no room in her mind, or her heart, for her to believe that it had been out of desire. Out of love. That would be another lesson for the girl.

But, until then, there was only so much that he can do. Sarah would be useless to him, as a companion, as a Queen, while she harbored a grudge against him. The emerald embedded in her crown would eventually calm her down – he could see the effects of the gem working already; her eyes told him much more than she would ever know – and help her to understand her new station. The monatomic gold that comprised much of the band would help to open her heart to him. It would then be up to him to continue the process of wooing Sarah. But how?

The King's thoughts turned to the three that had helped Sarah during her journey through the labyrinth. She had taken such a strong liking to them; could it be possible to enlist their aid? They had proven traitorous to him once before, purposely going against his laws or (in the case of the dwarf) expressed wishes not to help any human vying against the great maze, and he did not want to chance disloyalty again.

Though, if he was being honest with himself, he should not have expected anything less from the knight. Sir Didymus, while in Jareth's service with the Goblin Army, or when he was retired, watching over the Bog of Eternal Stench, had never been able to deny his help to any female creature in need. His good sense of chivalry was almost as strong as his sense of loyalty to the King and, in the case of Sarah, the chance to fight for a lady had beaten out Jareth. That, however, did not mean that, should his King desire his help in attaining the girl, Didymus would not help.

Jareth snapped his fingers. Almost at once, one of his servants came rushing down the hallway. The servant that came, a paltry mix of goblin and gnome – his eyes were overly large, like his goblin heritage, but he was only a head shorter than Jareth, with large warts dotting his mottled green forehead – was hurrying so that he was nearly running on all fours. When he stood before his King, he bowed and placed his hands neatly behind his back. "You called for service, Sire?"

The King recognized this particular servant. He was a recent acquisition to the Castle staff. His father had once been part of the Goblin Guard that helped Jareth with the watching of the wished away children; his mother was one of the garden gnomes that tended to the hedged portion of the labyrinth. His name was Flick, and he was being trained as an apprentice to the steward of the Castle, a Faerie man called Valentine. It was no surprise that he was the one to answer his summons.

"Yes," Jareth answered royally. He gestured to the door that Flick would be certain to know had not existed prior to the night before. "As much of the Castle should be aware, a girl entered the labyrinth yesterday." Flick nodded his understanding and, though he did not say a word, Jareth knew exactly what he was thinking; that such a girl was the only mortal to ever best the King. "I have returned with her in tow. She is housed in the room behind me. I need one of the female staff to come watch over her while I tend to other matters."

Flick nodded, lifting his eyes to meet those of the King. They were bulbous yellow eyes, with pitch black pupils. The pupils were dilated; he was surprised to hear what Jareth had said. "Of course, Sire. It shall be done at once."

But Jareth was not finished. "After that has been done, I need someone to retrieve the knight, Didymus, and bring him to the Castle. He resides is a hut beside the Bog's Bridge. Tell him it is urgent that he come speak with his King and that it is not a request."

This apprentice had not been in direct service of the Goblin King for long but it was obvious for even him to see that the girl's presence was taxing. He had never been so formal in addressing him before; he had never seemed so focused. Flick nodded again, his oversized head almost comical as it bounced up and down in his hurry to please. He did not want to upset the King when he was in such a strange mood. "I will go for him myself."

"Very well. Bring him to me as soon as you do. I will be waiting outside this room for your return and that of a handmaiden for the new Lady." Jareth could not bring himself to address Sarah as Queen just yet. Vageuly, he imagined that it might be best to let the girl, herself, grow accustomed to the title before the servants began to use it. Until then, Lady would have to suffice.

"Right away," affirmed Flick. And with one final nod, the apprentice was gone and Jareth... he was left to listen to the shallow sobs that found their way to him, through the rocky walls.


End file.
